


we'll be a fine line

by mc_claren



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, One Direction (Band), zayn malik - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - My Best Friend's Wedding (1997) Fusion, Based on the movie, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feel-good, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Slow Burn, Top Zayn Malik, Zarry freeform, romcom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:26:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26739574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mc_claren/pseuds/mc_claren
Summary: “You’ve met her parents,” Harry mumbles quietly, it comes out as a statement rather than a question.“Yeah, well I’ve got to meet the parents of the girl I’m marrying, Haz.”Harry can scarcely breathe. His legs began to give out for a second there. What the actual fuck. He can barely wrap his head around the fact that Louis’ met some girl’s parents and now he thinks it’s okay to casually slip it in that he’s getting married. Getting fucking married.Or My Best Friend's Wedding AU where Harry Styles, a 25-year-old New York restaurant critic, receives a call from his best friend Louis. In college, the two made a deal that if neither of them was married by the time they turned 25, they would marry each other. Three weeks after his 25th birthday, Louis tells him he's getting married.Harry has one week to sabotage the wedding with a little help from Zayn.
Relationships: Eleanor Calder/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles
Comments: 34
Kudos: 69





	1. Golden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the longest time, I've been wanting to write this. My favorite movie and my favorite pairing. It was long overdue. Also, no hate on Larry, etc. I just wanted to write this.
> 
> Other disclaimers including that this is a piece of fiction, the main storyline is from the movie called My Best Friend's AU. But I have made changes so it's not just a copy paste of the movie script.
> 
> Enjoy. (:

**INT. ELEVEN MADISON PARK RESTAURANT, NEW YORK – NIGHT**

**“** Coffee marinated quail egg with pomegranate reduction on the side,” the waiter lifts the cloche and nervously talks about the dish. He swallows, knowing that the chef is watching him from the round window on the door of the kitchen.

Harry Styles gives him a doubtful look, a faint frown tugging at his lips. He’s not opposed to trying out new food. Hell, that’s his job description. He’s a food critic for the best magazine in New York City but what gets him is how nervous the staff gets. It’s not like he has closed that many restaurants with his reviews, really. Okay, maybe he has but in his defence, his reviews closed bad restaurants.

He opens his mouth to say something before he sighs and sneaks a look at Zayn who is sitting right beside him, glancing dubiously yet also handing him the fork. Pressing into the egg with it, the yolk pours out into the dark pomegranate reduction. He takes a surprisingly small amount, rolls it over his tongue.

He looks at Zayn and nods, _it’s actually nice_. The waiter and the chefs who were glancing from the kitchen door visibly relax, “I’m writing this as inventive and confident. Which it is. Off the record, I’ll need a tad bit salt on the eggs.”

As the waiter runs to grab salt, Harry slices another piece of the egg and holds it to Zayn’s mouth, “Try this. Inventive and confident, yeah?

The corners of Zayn’s mouth quirk up as he takes a bite, “Do you really need a second opinion?”

Harry’s gaze flicks to the raven-haired boy, matching his smile, “Don’t sit beside me if you don’t want to taste the food.”

Zayn shakes his head fondly, finally acknowledging, “Needs salt.”

Maybe he’d never really get used to the way Harry would ask for his opinion. Like it even matters. After all, he’s only Harry’s editor. Only has to accompany him to so many restaurants that he’s lost count. But he knows it’s more than that. They’ve known each other for a couple of years now, bonding over one too many meals and he can’t really remember a time in his life where he hadn’t known Harry. Zayn has seen him through everything as the latter had seen him through everything. Breakups, losing friends, losing parents, jobs—they’ve almost been through it all.

After Zayn is done relishing the taste, he looks around which makes many pairs of eyes awkwardly glance away, “Is it ever embarrassing to have your arse kissed in public?”

Harry lets out a breathy laugh, “If your arse isn’t chapped, you’re not a good food critic. Is it sad to be an editor no one pays attention to?”

“I’ve adjusted just fine, thanks for asking,” Zayn huffs, trying to hold back an unintentional smile, “Did you hear from the Food Illustrated guy?”

“Is he really trying to get my review in his magazine or is it some cute guy Liam’s setting me up with?”

Zayn rolls his eyes fondly, “Liam doesn’t set you up with guys anymore. You don’t know what to do with them.”

“Hey, that’s not tru- “Before Harry could make a great comeback, he’s distracted by a voicemail. It’s not just any voicemail.

It’s Louis Tomlinson.

Harry puts the phone to his ear, his heart gradually picking up pace in a fit of anxiety.

“ _Hey, it’s Louis. God, it must be, what, months, huh? I can't wait to talk to you. I'm in Chicago at the Ritz Carlton. Call me at four in the morning or whatever. We gotta talk.”_

As Harry hangs up, he still has that warm look in his eyes.

Zayn’s rarely seen that and he decides he likes it very much, “Who called? The Food Illustrated guy?”

Harry snorts, shaking his head so vigorously that his curls sway as well, “Terrible guess. It’s Louis, actually. Wants me to give him a call soon.”

“The sportswriter?” Zayn asks unimpressed, “I didn’t know you two were...”

“We’re not. I met him in college. He was obnoxious and loud and amazing and he can get so crazy,” Harry reminisces, “I remember this one guy we were at a party right after he got dumped and we made this pact that when we’re both 25 and haven’t gotten married, we’d marry each other. I mean, who does that?”

But Zayn isn’t laughing, his brows pinched together like he’s deep in thought. “You turned 25 three months ago, how old is he?”

Harry inhales sharply at the gravity of his tone, dropping the fork, “You think...?”

“Desperate. To talk,” Zayn adds with an amusing smile as he sees Harry frantically shoving more and more food into his mouth.

“He’s not- I mean, I don’t think- He can’t do that, can he?” Harry knows what he looks like, a panic-ridden disgusting mess.

It’s not that he doesn’t like Louis, it’s just that he would’ve never expected that pact to actually come true. And Louis has actually held him accountable to that? He’s just 25, for fuck’s sake. Who’s to say they won’t meet anyone at 26- Harry’s not half done with his career, he’s got reviews to write and Louis travels all the time being a sportswriter- it’s a maddening mess. He loves Louis, dearly. But this has got to be insanity.

Zayn fights the urge to roll his eyes again. Harry looks like he’s caught off guard and he’s kind of glad that Louis is spared this initial reaction. His green eyes wide in an absolute panic, a mouthful of food, “We’ll find out.”

“When I turn him down, we’ll never be the same again,” Harry deflates, slumps his shoulders like he’s speaking more to himself than Zayn.

Zayn raises his brows at the use of ‘when’ and not an ‘if.’ It’s almost as if Harry’s already decided to turn him down. To be quite honest, he couldn’t even begin to sympathize with Louis. Having met him only twice or thrice, can’t say he was a fan of how snappy he was of Harry’s behavior. Zayn’s wise enough not to judge Louis entirely based on those encounters but even he knows this is a tad extreme. Getting hitched at 25 because of some ridiculous agreement, “I got an idea.”

“I’ll have to kill myself before I call him,” Harry glances incredulously at him.

“That was it,” Zayn nods sympathetically, shaking his head.

_____

That night, Harry furiously brushes his teeth with his toothbrush. White foam pouring out of his mouth, he frowns briefly when he finds a bit of toothpaste foam on the grey hoodie he’s wearing. He spits. Depressed, terrified, and disfigured for life as he snatches up the hated phone, and wanders aimlessly into his bedroom.

He stumbles around, rehearsing.

“This is awkward timing, Lou, I just got out of a serious relationship-” He stops. _Louis would never buy that._

Harry thumbs at his temple, pacing around the room.

He clears this throat, sighing slightly and takes a deep breath to calm himself down. And so the next thing he knows, he's dialling Louis' number.

One ring. Two rings.

Then finally, “Hey, god, it's so good to hear your voice. I've been calling for days,” Louis snickers.

Harry can feel himself smile effortlessly. He forgets himself because it’s good to hear his voice too. Even if they don’t see each other a lot, Louis is still one of his best friends since college.

“I’m sorry, I was busy with work-”

“Look, I have to ask you something,” Louis says urgently and Harry swallows. His toes curl in anticipation. This is how it was going to be. So, be it. He can take it.

“Something so incredibly important, that if you turn me down, I don't know what I'll d-“

Okay, maybe he can’t take it after all.

“I just have to tell you this one thing first, okay? I mean this will hand you the biggest laugh of your adult life- “Harry quickly speaks over Louis as quickly as he could, “I was thinking about you, and I remembered this unbelievably insane party we went to, like a thousand years ago?” he continues.

More silence. 

“I mean, there's no way you could possibly remember the-“

“Are you kidding?” Louis laughs. It stops him. Like a brick wall. The sweetness in his voice, “I think about that night all the time. But it's not why I called, Harold,” Louis says.

He blinks. It's not? Harry lets out a nervous laugh. Fuck, that’s a relief. “I called because I met someone,” Louis says from the other end of the line.

Harry’s not sure if he’s heard him right because just as he goes to sit at the foot of the bed, he misses it completely; letting out a shriek as he falls on the floor with a thud. He scrambles to his feet, hand wandering aimlessly to catch hold of his phone which slipped out of his hands.

“You what?”

“You don't understand. I've never felt this way about anybody!” Louis reasons out.

Never, huh? Harry doesn’t know why but that invokes a pang of jealousy. His lips curl into a slight frown as he takes a few steps forward and glances out of the floor to ceiling windows of his bedroom. His face suddenly illuminated by the lights of the buildings of New York. He rubs at his forehead where it hit the floor, a small pout forming at his lips.

“And she's all wrong for me!” Louis laughs. Harry can imagine him throwing his hands in the hair, looking a bit delirious, “She’s a junior at Chicago University, she's twenty years old! Like when I first met you. And her dad is like this billionaire who owns the White Sox and some cable empire, and you know how I've always been miserably awkward around those kinda stuffed suits- But they're such down to earth, wonderful people.”

“You’ve met her parents,” Harry mumbles quietly, it comes out as a statement rather than a question. A statement that dismantles Harry's heart.

Louis stays quiet before murmuring, “Yeah, well I’ve got to meet the parents of the girl I’m marrying, Harry.”

He can scarcely breathe; his legs begin to give out for a second there. What the fuck? He can barely wrap his head around the fact that Louis’ met some girl’s parents and now he thinks it’s okay to casually slip it in that he’s getting married. Getting fucking married.

“Louis, it’s a Wednesday night, you can't possibly be getting married-“

“Actually, it all starts **next week**. It's one of those weddings with tons of brunches and rehearsals.”

“Aren't you- working next weekend? I mean, is- is that responsible?” Harry smacks his hand against his forehead. What a stupid thing to say.

“Well, Thomas did give me a couple of weeks off,” Harry nods quietly knowing that Louis isn't able to see him, “Haz, I'm scared. If you can't come and hold my hand, I'll never get through this. Please come, please.” And of course, that melts him. How sweet and desperate he sounds. Harry’s never known Louis to be one of those people who immediately fall in love with just about anyone. In fact, they both had bonded over how scary it is to get to know a person and fall for them and realize that they can be taken away from you any moment. He doesn’t know how to take it. Louis does sound happy but there’s something unsettling about this. He might’ve not wanted to get married to Louis right away but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care for his best friend who is clearly rushing into a marriage. Clearly, right? Also, it’s unfair. They had a pact and everything.

Mostly, he feels like he’s going to lose his best friend.

All the memories they shared. Now, Louis will be sharing them with someone else. Someone who’s not Harry. His heart is beating in his chest so hard at that thought. They both can make it work, there’s no reason why Louis should look for someone else. Harry can give him what he wants. Sooner or later. He can do that.

“And I can’t wait for you to meet her,” Louis interrupts his thoughts. Harry can practically hear him smiling.

“Yeah, me neither,” he says without any real enthusiasm behind it. He doesn’t know what it is but feels a lot like losing a best friend to some girl he met. And he’s not even remotely ready for their lives to change. He’s a creature of habit, prefers the way things are. At least, with people. And it’s predictable and comfortable and Louis can’t wake up one day and say he can’t go to places with Harry and have the time of his life because he’s busy painting the white picket fence. It’s selfish, he hates that it has come to this. But he can give Louis what she can. At least, he hopes he can.

Cursing under his breath lowly, it dawns on him that he has a week to do something. Breaking them up is diabolic, Harry would never forgive himself. He couldn’t. But maybe he doesn’t have to. Maybe being around Louis would ensure that he should choose Harry. Which means he has one week to make Louis realize how better and happy he is with Harry. Shit.

_____

**INT. O'HARA AIRPORT, CHICAGO - MORNING**

The airport was filled with swarming people pushing through each other to get ahead with their day. And then there's Harry, lugging multiple carry-ons, trying to pull fly-away strands of his hair into place, nervous, looking all around, and there he is. Louis is all square-shouldered, a boyish grin, an unruly shock of hair. He looks gorgeous, sweet, and just dangerous enough to be irresistible. His face lights up to see Harry, and he runs into Louis’ arms, shedding bags along the way only to bump into him, laughing like crazy.

“Can you believe it? Can you believe I'm actually gonna do this?” Louis lets out a breathy laugh, running his fingers through his hair.

“Absolutely not”, Harry speaks with a sheepish smile, trying not to lose himself into Louis' blue eyes. And then Louis beams, turning and Harry follows his gaze and... there she is.

Eleanor Calder is 20, brunette with a crinkling smile.

Her face is striking, not at all perky and vapid, but lovely and interesting. Worst of all, intelligent. She walks towards them purposefully, her eyes locked to Harry in her fiancée’s arms. At the last moment, Louis releases Harry and Eleanor throws her arms around the startled visitor. Holds him tight with such genuine warmth that Harry can only, slowly, hug back.

“This just makes everything so perfect,” she squeals and Harry has to wince, not being able to reciprocate the same energy, “All I've heard, from the day I met Louis, is Harry this, and Harry that.”

“Well, we're-“ Harry feels a loss of words. He doesn’t quite get to what they are before Eleanor is cutting him off, pushing past them to grab Harry’s suitcase but he immediately stops her, shaking his head to grab his own bag.

“I think the best part of marrying this guy is finding you,” she laughs. Her grin wide and brown-hued eyes alive with joy and intimacy. All three of them head out of the airport to the parking lot. Harry tries his best to shoot a supportive smile towards Louis who looks smitten with Eleanor, it makes him pucker his lips out like a five-year-old. Before he knows, she is tearing down the throughway in her Mercedes 500 SL, a dashing, confident driver. Harry has no idea how he ended up riding shotgun, hair flying, a total wreck, in the open convertible. Louis is happily crouched in the back seat, hugging his knees. The roar of the wind makes it impossible for him to hear them.

“I have to ask this monstrous favor,” she starts, hitting the pedal and the car goes faster.

“You need a few dollars?” Harry hopes and he has to raise his voice to have her hear him through the traffic and the wind. She glances at Harry, shaking her head with amusement and then she looks back to the highway. Harry studies the delicate, angular profile of Eleanor. Hard not to like this kid. He shakes his head, running his fingers through his curls. If he loses Louis to her, it'll be disastrous. It's horrible enough to have him engaged. He just- he doesn't understand. He left Louis alone for a few months and he ends up engaged to someone like Eleanor. And Harry is not jealous. Not a single bit.

“You see since you and Lou have been best friends for a long time, I was hoping you could be his best man.” Harry looks over, his eyebrows raised as if secretly debating if this was her question to ask. The sweetest smile forms on Eleanor's face. 

“He’s been planning on how to ask you for days but we both know how long that could take him,” she winks at Harry who only glances over his shoulder at Louis who looks a little shy but his eyes are hopeful, “I also know you hate weddings and Lou has told me that you never like to attend any, let alone be the best man but we need you. And I'm certain that there's no one good enough to be the best man.”

Harry doesn’t really know how to say no to that. It’s not like he planned to come here a week before and try to pry Louis out of her hands but it’s a necessity, really. But it’s also Louis. He knows it’s difficult for him to ask Harry to be there for him. He knows Louis would’ve thought of ways to ask him in the most perfect way but Eleanor did it for him. Harry hates how she complements his idiosyncrasies.

“I’ll do it,” Harry says more to Louis than to her with a faint smile.

Turns out, she is fearless and oblivious as she veers the steering wheel to the right to overtake a car and this has Harry almost falling out of his seat. He quickly grabs hold of his seat belt and fixes it in place in the fear of his dear life. She sees the off-ramp, and slices across four lanes like speeding bullets in a heart-stopping nanosecond. Harry has to pound his chest to get his heart started. He looks back to see if Louis had already fallen out.. and he is absurdly wind-blown. Gives him a beautiful grinning thumbs-up.

“This means I have a week to make you my new best friend,” and this brings Harry's eyes back to her, “Since I already know everything about you, including intimate facts, I'm mortified to hear, but too envious to forget., it's time for you to learn about me.”

_The car skids into the parking lot of the hotel._

“Force yourself. To get personal,” she looks him dead in the eye and adds on happily.

“Sounds like a plan,” he gulps nervously, putting a little effort to smile at her direction.

_____

“I'm just saying he's lucky. Takes one person in a billion to put up with his shit,” Harry says over dinner. Eleanor invited him and Louis wanted them to get to know each other so, he didn’t join them at the restaurant. This is perfect because it gave Harry a chance to- well, to make Eleanor dislike Louis. But it's hard cause he's already so Louis.

“And he- he has habits-“ Harry continues, really focused.

“Well, I've already been introduced to his snoring. But guess what? Earplugs work,” she replies. _Fine, if that’s how you want to play it._

“How about-“

“Smoking in bed? I broke him on that. But the bathroom's a swamp, he wears Adidas to dinner, tells the same, admittedly funny joke three hundred times.”

Harry sucks in a breath.

She has known him for almost a year. ‘Almost’ being the keyword and he's listening to a stranger telling him the habits of his best friend like she has known him forever. No one knows Louis like Harry does.

“Loves action movies, reads over my shoulder and I can't keep a track of the cheques he writes- but after two weeks of cataloguing all his faults, I made a decision that changed my life,” she announces.

Harry puts down his fork, stuck at the moment.

“I threw the list away,” she turns to him, shaking her head, “He's not a balance sheet, so many wonderful qualities, so many faults. He's Louis.”

And if Harry weren’t trying to butt in, it would’ve sounded so heartfelt; so, he keeps shoving more food inside his mouth. It reminds him of his dinner with Zayn last week and he feels another nervous breakdown coming up.

“So, loving him means loving all of him,” her lips curl from the fondness she has for Louis but it’s making Harry sicker, “It's very sweet of you to be protective. But nothing ever could, ever did, give me a moment's pause about this wedding- except one,” she mutters softly.

His food hasn’t even been touched anymore; he feels his appetite diminishing.

Eleanor nods and confides, “You. You'll always be there. In his mind. The perfect creature he loved for all those years-“

“Well, perfection can get tiring after a whi-“

“I'm not joking. You win,” she replies with a gentler smile so effortlessly.

“He has you on the pedestal and me in his arms.”

That has Harry _frozen_.

The sheer admission of it. He and Louis were always a team, no matter what. That’s why he’s so bloody desperate not to lose that. But he before he can think something or say anything, he hears two girls come over to their dinner table. He assumes they are Eleanor’s cousins.

One of them leans down to give her a hug, “My God, it's the bride and the man she'll never live up to!” the girl with long brunette hair and striking amber eyes exclaims.

“That would be us,” Eleanor gives out a laugh, nudging Harry’s leg from under the table. She is perfect. And instead of being happy for his best friend, he's up to sabotaging his wedding. For the obvious reason: there is no potential with her. And- and Harry needs to win Louis back. He has to. He won't lose nine years of his time with Louis to someone he's known for two days. Okay, well not two days but you know.

_____

Back in his hotel room, Harry tosses and turns in his bed. The digital clock on the nightstand reads 12:14 am. He sighs, getting up from his bed. Peering out the window, he looks at the Chicago skyline and how unfamiliar it all is. How, even if he travels to so many places in a year, he still can’t get used to living in hotel rooms. The lights of the city from the windows illuminate his face as he takes a seat on the carpeted floor.

Tonight, his head feels like an unfamiliar place too. He doesn’t know what to make of it. His best friend is getting married in a week. _A week_. To a girl he barely knows for a few months. Someone so wildly different. And what is he even doing? He knows he doesn’t want to sabotage their wedding but he also doesn’t want to lose Louis.

So, he does the only logical thing left to do.

He leans over to his bed and runs his hands under the pillows to grab his phone. He finds some left-over chocolate and fetches them too while he thumbs through his contact list to find the person he wanted to call.

He leaves a voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me,” he murmurs as he takes the wrapper off the chocolate, “I’m in Chicago. Louis is getting married to- to someone he’s been with for just a year. Isn’t that so fast? I- I don’t know what to do.”

He sounds like he’s frowning.

“And she’s so perfect. If I didn’t want to hate her, I’d adore her,” Harry chuckles and there are vague noises of him moving over to the bed, the rusting of the sheets, “What I mean, when I say annoyingly perfect, is that there is nothing annoying about her perfection. It's vulnerable and endearing and that is annoying as shit. And I didn’t know who else to call. Or if it’s even the right decision to be here. They’re getting married in a week. A week, for fuck’s sake. Anyway, just give me- give me a callback, yeah?”

He stares at the white ceiling whilst laying under the blanket in his bed before sighing and shaking his head. Harry sounded like he’d burst into tears, it’s pathetic, really. But before he knows it, his thoughts all merge into one and he feels his eyes dropping as he slips into a deep slumber.

_7 days remaining._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written the first chapter again. It has the same plot but I felt I should've written it better. So, there you go. I intend to finish this fic soon and do not wish to take it to January haha. Let me know how you like it. (:


	2. Adore You

**INT RITZ CARLTON HOTEL – DAY**.

The doorbell rings multiple times, waking Harry up from his sleep. He groans at the sound and shoves his head under the pillow to avoid the daylight.

“Fuck,” he mutters when the doorbell doesn’t stop. He musters enough strength to get out of the bed, squinting at the light. He slept for god knows how many hours, his curls are sticking out in all sorts of directions and there are pillow creases on his face probably. He stumbles on the bottles of wine and wrappers of chocolates by his bedside, not bothering to put on a shirt. He doesn’t care who it is, he will murder them for waking him up at—10:34 am. By the time he opens the door, his face is scrunched up in annoyance.

“How long does it take for you to answer the damn door?”

Harry’s breath catches in his throat as a huge grin plasters on his face, “Zayn!” he leaps out at the raven-haired lad who stumbles a couple of steps backwards, laughing into Harry’s hair and hugging him back just as tightly.

“Now that’s the way I like to be greeted,” Zayn chuckles as Harry pulls away slightly, his cheeks dimpling into an unwavering grin.

“Did I sound that desperate over the phone?”

“Not as desperate as you look hugging me in the hallway, half-naked,” Harry gasps at the comment, giving him a light shove.

They manage to lug in Zayn’s bags inside the room while simultaneously bickering about where to keep it.

“What a hideous room,” Zayn comments, taking in the view of the city which seemed to be the only good thing. Harry’s room is a mess of clothes— shirts hanging off of chairs, a jacket thrown carelessly on the table, bottles of wine and apple juice boxes lingering beside the bed and Zayn’s pretty sure Harry has a chocolate wrapper stuck in his curls.

He busies himself in tidying up the room a little bit while Zayn plops himself on the bed. The flight felt like forever and he gets this weird feeling like he’s still on the plane.

“Did you die by the minibar last night?” Zayn’s lips quirk up as he lifts what seems to be a pair of boxers thrown across the bed. Harry lets out a low gasp, quickly snatching it away from him with faint pink cheeks.

“I may as well have,” he sighs, his lips forming a petulant pout, “She is annoyingly perfect, Zayn.”

 _Kinda like you, then_ , Zayn wants to say.

Instead, he stops Harry from cleaning and grabs him by his arm, pulling him to lay on the bed, “I don’t get it. You freaked out when you thought he’d ask you to marry him but now you want him to?”

“Well-” Harry grumbles, picking on a button stitched to Zayn’s shirt, “He’s ruining his life.”

“He’s ruining your life.”

“Same difference. If you like someone, it's your duty to save them from themselves.”

“You have a real philosophy of life,” Zayn retorts sarcastically and shakes his head.

It makes Harry laugh under his breath. He had missed Zayn’s snide albeit witty remarks. It’s strange when someone’s very important and you haven’t seen them for a while so, as soon as you do, it’s easier to breathe, “I can’t believe you flew all the way. You hate flying.”

“Don’t get used to it, I’m taking the red-eye tonight,” Zayn informs Harry, both of them now lying in bed beside each other. Zayn, being exhausted and Harry, being lazy.

“What, why? You’re not staying?”

Zayn tilts his head to get a better look at Harry. His eyes wide and green like he hopes Zayn changes his mind midway, “Can’t, Haz. I’ll be reviewing your piece for next month’s column.”

“I’ll talk to Alexa, get you the week off,” then Harry turns to face him, tilting his head towards Zayn, “I don’t think I’ll make it through this week alone.”

Zayn opens his mouth slightly, mostly to say no. There’s no reason why he shouldn’t say no, really. Weddings suck and he doesn’t even know Louis. Doesn’t even plan on getting to know him. But he finds himself succumbing to Harry’s whining anyway, “Even if I wanted to, the entire hotel’s booked ‘cuz of the wedding.”

“You’ll stay with me,” Harry supplies in encouragement, hoping to persuade him enough.

“But I’m not becoming part of your devious little plans.”

Harry groans, “You’re going to say it, aren’t you?”

“Just talk to him,” Zayn nudges him a little which manages to form a smile on Harry’s face, “Tell him you don’t want him to marry Ella.”

“Eleanor.”

Zayn rolls his eyes playfully but goes with it, “Eleanor. Tell him you've liked him, but you were afraid to realize it. Tell him you know this is the worst, dumbest, cruellest moment to do this to him. But there it is, and he has to choose.”

Harry falls quiet, unable to turn his gaze away from Zayn, “And what will he do?”

“He'll choose her. You'll stand by him at his wedding. You'll say good-bye and you'll go home,” Zayn continues, his voice low, “This is what you've come to do. So, do it.”

Harry looks frightened for a moment but also moved; he nudges Zayn with his shoulder playfully when he gets a look of utter concern aimed at him, “Tell him the actual truth?”

“Well, maybe not all of it,” Zayn muses, “Highlights,” they both laugh.

_____

**INT HALL MADDEN SUIT STORE – NOON.**

“Why do I have to go with you, again?” Zayn looks least enthusiastic to be dragged to a suit store in the middle of the day.

“Best man duty,” Harry replies with a pleading smile, looping his arm around Zayn so he won’t run away, “Please, please, please. We’ll go get food later, anything you want.”

That seems to appease Zayn and he becomes more pliant to accompany Harry inside. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees Louis, getting his measurements done by the tailor and Zayn who was trailing behind him, collides against his back before he huffs, “Okay, he’s busy, maybe I’ll tell him at another—”

“Harry,” Zayn sighs, grabbing his hand and pulling him aside, “You’ll be fine, he’s your friend. Just talk to him. And stop fidgeting.”

Harry puckers his lips into a small pout that makes Zayn squeeze his shoulder with an endeared smile. So, he sets out, turning his back to Zayn and reminding his feet to beeline for Louis. He can do this. Right? How hard can it even be?

 _Louis, you can’t get married_. Harry shakes his head, mentally cursing at how abrupt that was.

_Eleanor isn’t right for you._

_“_ What?” Louis looks behind his shoulder, his eyes gleaming to find Harry.

Harry’s eyes widen as he realizes he said it out loud, “I- uh, I mean— “

“I’m so glad you’re here, I am clueless about these suits,” he complains, glancing at the mirror. Harry exhales a deep sigh, clearly, Louis didn’t hear him say those actual words. His hands are getting cold by the second. And sweaty. He can do this, it’s just a conversation.

“Can- Louis, can I talk to you for a second?”

Louis looks confused, “Do you not like the suit?”

“Oh, um, not about that,” Harry waves his hand in the air, “but yeah, it kinda sucks.”

Louis looks down at his clothes, caught off guard as he thought it was nice but he nods as a sign for Harry to go on.

“Right, so,” Harry begins, not so eloquently, “Sometimes, people think they know how they feel about each other but they don’t. Until- until, they do,” he gets it out even slower than usual while Louis looks at him with half-raised brows, “I have a point, I swear. The question is, am I getting to it.”

“C’mon, Harold. Whatever you have to say can’t be that big of a deal,” Louis attempts to dispel his anxiety.

“Well, Louis,” Harry sighs, “‘big deal’ is a relative term,” he frowns and tugs on a string coming out of Louis’ sleeve which makes the whole sewing undone and the sleeve falls apart. He’s pretty sure he heard the tailor gasp in the background. Harry looks back at Zayn for some kind of help, this is becoming embarrassing at this point. Zayn does a double-take, catching Harry looking at him and throws away the scarf he was checking out.

“Who’s that guy again?” Louis follows his gaze.

“It’s uh, it’s Zayn. You know, my editor. You’ve met him a couple times,” Harry tries to explain.

“What’s he doing here? You working this weekend?”

“No,” he looks down at Louis’ shoes to have something to focus on. He doesn’t think he can even look at Louis, much less circle back to what he was going to say in the first place, “He’s here to be with me.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s- he’s my good friend. My best friend, these days and-”

“Oh,” Louis takes a step back, peering over at Zayn.

“You’ve been busy,” Harry admits, sneaking a look at Louis. He can’t help but notice his honesty here. Louis has been busy. Hanging out turned to face timing to calls to texting each other. And how Harry would know stuff about Louis’ life second-hand through his Instagram. But he knows it takes two people for a neglected relationship. He knows because he chose this. Chose to let calls go to voicemail, chose to move to New York, chose to hang out with Liam, Nick, Zayn or Alexa. He tries not to dwell on it because that’s just life, isn’t it? You slowly just, stop keeping up with the same person once you feel the effort you put in is not reciprocated. Harry doesn’t even blame him; he knows Louis has to travel all over to do his job. It’s just what it is.

“So, all this...” Louis recollects, “has been about Zayn?”

Zayn shoves his hands in his pockets. Even if he advised Harry to come clean, he’s been getting pretty nervous just looking at them talk. The whole reason why he’s even pacing around in some suit store in Chicago, for fuck’s sake. Confrontation has never been his forte. He stops when he sees them talk animatedly, a sense of relief soothing his nerves. Harry and Louis look happy, almost. He doesn’t know how that could be a resultant emotion of that confrontation. A wedding is about to be called off and they’re happy?

He shrugs, maybe they both wanted this.

They both seem to walk towards him which makes him narrow his eyes in suspicion.

“I don’t know what to say, I’m speechless,” Louis cackles, Zayn refrains from showing any signs of flinching at the pitch. 

He goes along with it, chuckling at the thought, “Well, that’s Harry.”

Louis extends his hand, both shake it and speak in unison, “Congratulations!”

Zayn scrunches his brows in confusion, “What?”

“I- I told him, Z,” Harry interjects quickly, “if we’re dating, we really shouldn’t be hiding it.”

Zayn looks stunned, looking dumbly from Harry to Louis. He sees Harry pleading behind Louis’ shoulder which turns into a supportive smile when Louis looks at him.

He exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding, “Huh. Right, totally. Uh, Harry? A word?”

Harry shoots a nervous and apologetic smile at Louis before he _dragged_ to a corner in the store with Zayn. As soon as they have some privacy, Zayn raises his voice slightly, “What’s the matter with you?”

“I’m sorry, I really am- I was telling him stuff and then he assumed they were about you-“

“And you went along with it?”

Harry sighs, pressing the balls of his hand to cover his eyes, “I know, it was stupid-“

“Really stupid.”

“Really stupid but I had no other choice. Zayn, he seemed jealous,” Harry murmurs, he looks like he was giving up but he found something to hold onto. It ropes Zayn in. That stupid look on Harry’s face when he really cares about something, when he really believes in something. He runs a hand through his black hair, slumping his shoulders when he feels that Harry is trembling, clearly pretty shaken up about it. And without a second thought, Zayn pulls him into a hug. He knows it was what Harry needed by the way he hugs back tighter.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” Harry murmurs into his neck; he sounds small, scared. It makes Zayn ache in a way he hasn’t before. He rubs Harry’s back, drawing small circles with his thumb over his waist, “Don’t be crazy, ‘m not mad, Haz.”

They stay like that for a moment. A private corner of comfort in the store, just for the two of them.

Until Harry begins to pull away, much more composed than before but still lingering in Zayn’s embrace. It erupts a feeling of pride within him that even with Louis in the other corner of the store, Zayn gets to be the one Harry can rely on. He guesses that’s just how things have been between them. Ever since Harry moved to New York, they’ve strangely been inseparable. And if you ask Zayn whether he fears he might lose Harry the way Louis did, he doesn’t. Despite his mood swings and not seeing people for days, they’ve always managed to gravitate towards each other in some capacity.

He understands that Zayn might not always want to be around and Zayn understands when Harry needs him the most. It’s the reason why he flew all the way to Chicago. _He could tell Harry needed him._

“Better?” he asks.

Harry nods, gathering enough energy for a half-dimpled smile, “It’s such a stupid idea.”

They both laugh as Zayn smooths a hand down Harry’s back, gently and slowly, “If it means that much to you then I guess- But you have to tell him,” Zayn says, softer this time now that he’s close enough to notice the slight tinge of hazel in Harry’s eyes, mixed with green.

“I will,” Harry repeats it back, his arms adjusting around Zayn’s neck, “This time, I’ll practice and everything.”

“Right, practice is what you lacked,” Zayn replies sarcastically and it gets another laugh out of Harry so, he thinks they’ll be alright after all. They make their way back to the tailoring area where Louis is now joined by Eleanor who is giddy as ever. Once she spots them, they are greeted by her excited grin.

“Louis told me everything,” she gushes, “This is just perfect! I’m Eleanor, by the way,” she stretches her hand out to Zayn, “You have no idea how jealous I’ve been of these two and now I won’t be as lonely when both our boyfriends hang out.”

Zayn attempts to match her level of excitement, plastering a polite smile as he drapes his arm over Harry’s shoulder, pulling him closer then whispering in his ear, “If you leave me alone with her, I’ll kill you in your sleep.”

Harry almost breaks into a laugh hearing that and shakes his head, “Well, as much as Zayn would love to, we have to get going.”

She quirks her head to a side, “Aren’t you coming to the luncheon? Louis’ parents and my family will be there. Why don’t you join us with Zayn?”

“Yeah, my mom would love to see you,” Louis adds meekly.

Ignoring an obvious glare by Zayn, Harry agrees to it. It’s not like he could say no. So, all four of them head out to the hotel.

“What? I told you I’d take you out for lunch,” Harry justifies, putting on his sweetest smiles for Zayn.

“Yeah, just the two of us, not some family extravaganza,” Zayn rolls his eyes.

After they get inside the car, Harry rubs his arm up and down in reassurance, “I’ll be there, I’ll sit right beside you. It’ll be fine.”

If you ask Zayn, it most certainly isn’t fine.

He’s in this big hall filled with a hundred strangers, all relatives of the bride and groom in the middle of the lunch hour. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t just want to get out of here. He feels like a fish out of the water. Thankfully, Harry makes sure he’s by his side so he feels less on edge. And when the waiters pull up a chair of him at this big table with too many of Louis and Eleanor’s relatives, Harry catches a seat beside him instead of being seated with Louis.

“Just a little while,” Harry pleads with him, “We’ll quickly eat and go back to the room. We could even go to one of the bookstores you wanted to see.”

“Now, when you say ‘we’, is that you and I or half the population of Ritz Carlton?” Zayn retorts, making Harry roll his eyes fondly.

To Harry’s relief, the food is served quickly.

“I hope this one hasn’t given the best man much grief,” Louis’ dad continues, smiling kindly at Harry, “I take it you’re adjusting well to Chicago?”

Harry nods slowly, his expression warming up, “Of course not, I’m happy to help out. Chicago’s been really nice, great choice of the hotel.”

“Eleanor picked it,” Louis’ mom supplies happily.

Harry’s smile falters and he turns to Zayn slightly who puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in support, “Of course, she did.”

“Speaking of choices, you seem to have chosen well for yourself too,” she goes on, Eleanor’s grin wide as ever, “Zayn seems to really like you.”

“You’d think, wouldn’t you?” Harry replies and gets a slight kick from Zayn under the table, “Yeah, he’s been really wonderful and supportive.”

“That’s really sweet,” Eleanor giggles merrily, “Why don’t you tell us how you met?”

“That’s not really necessary-“ Harry lets out a nervous laugh, shaking his head.

“I’d like to know,” Louis chips in, his gaze is an icy cold blue.

“Well, we met at a bar. It was Liam’s promotion,” he begins.

“You’re telling it wrong,” Zayn interjects, making Harry roll his eyes in disbelief, “We met at a bar. It was Liam’s promotion. So, he invited a few of his friends out for drinks. But by the time, Haz showed up, Liam had already quite literally drunk the bar,” they laugh, “And we had dinner the other day with Liam who was still hungover.”

Eleanor clasps a hand on her chest, an adoring smile on her face, “I’m so happy for you two. I mean, I was starting to get worried when Louis told me about all those guys and the meaningless sex and breakups you went through.”

Harry chokes on his water, covering his mouth to cough, “What?”

Zayn straightens his back, immediately taking note of the change in Harry’s demeanour. A pure look of betrayal flashes on his face when he looks at Louis, not believing that he said those things to Eleanor. Louis sits there with a sheepish grin, shrugging his shoulders while the entire table goes silent.

He feels Harry begin to get up so, Zayn puts his hand on his thigh. 

“Well, you know, Harry was equally worried,” Zayn tightens his jaw, displaying a curt smile, “No one goes through jobs quite like Louis. Is it what, five jobs in three years? And I’ve heard you didn’t even finish your degree, Eleanor.”

The heat rises on Eleanor’s cheeks, “I’m just 20, I have all the time in the world to get back to school.”

“Absolutely,” Zayn agrees with a shrug, “In fact, Harry was almost done with school and had a column in the New Yorker when he was your age. There’s obviously no telling what you could do.”

That seems to shut her up.

“It’s true, I still keep cut-outs of his reviews in this box,” Louis’ mum chimes in sweetly, sending an apologetic smile towards Harry. He mouths a ‘thank you’ to her with a dimpled smile and Zayn rests his chin on his hand, a proud smile playing on his lips when Harry squeezes his hand. And maybe, it went fine after all.

_____

Zayn is exhausted by the time his head hits the pillow. After having that stupid lunch, they did get away for a while—both of them felt the need to. Harry took him to the bookstores he wanted to go to and he also got to stop by an ice cream store where Harry ordered five different kinds and made it a game to see if Zayn can guess all of them right. Spoiler alert, he couldn’t guess more than two flavors correctly.

He rolls to his back, getting cozy under his duvet. God knows he has looked forward to it the whole day. Just to hide in this room and sleep for ten hours underneath the warmth of the duvet. There are no columns to edit or annotate, no calls to make. It’s nice to slow down. It’d be amazing if he can recluse himself in this room and read his books. Hell, that sounds like a vacation to him. He glances over at Harry who is laid on his back, blinking languidly at the ceiling.

Sticking his leg out, he kicks Harry’s shin.

“Okay, you’ve got to stop kicking me,” Harry tells him without any heat behind it, throwing a small pillow in his direction.

“Geez, Haz. Still upset about lunch?”

“No,” he shakes his head which makes his curls sway left to right, “Just wondering what people really think about me, you know? Considering all the _great_ stuff he’s told her.”

“I’m sure people don’t think poorly of you,” Zayn tries to console.

“No, really, Zayn,” he sounds like he’s frowning again, “Is that how I come off? Do you think about me-“

“Oh, no, hey. I still keep cut-outs of your reviews in my box.”

Harry lets out a laugh, turning towards Zayn to give him a light shove. He remains on his side while Zayn is on his back, “Shut the fuck up.”

“I meant what I said,” Zayn lets himself think out loud, not meeting Harry’s eyes.

It curls a smile onto Harry’s lips as he props his head on his arm, reaching out underneath the duvet to kick Zayn slightly on the shin, “It was cool of you to have my back, thank you.”

“I’m your fake boyfriend, remember? I have to have your back,” Zayn chuckles, tilting his head to finally look at him. Harry groans at the reminder of his stupid mistake and shoves his head under the pillow.

_6 days remaining._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three coming soon this week. (:


	3. To Be So Lonely

Harry doesn’t even realize how quickly another day goes by. He’s so caught up with the number of things to arrange for the wedding that he barely finds any time to himself. For starters, he spends the entire morning at the florists. Eleanor wanted to get lilies in the centrepieces but of course, there was a mix up with the order and orchids were delivered. Despite knowing that it isn’t his job to get them right, he still feels the need to reassure Louis that everything will be just perfect.

Running from one end of Chicago to the other, he manages to fetch Louis’ suit in time and also gets confirmation on the venue. Meanwhile, Zayn sleeps till the afternoon as usual. So, when he is up, he accompanies Harry with the assortment of errands at his hand. They try to come up with all sorts of plans, really.

Zayn spends the rest of the day making it a point to have useless arguments with Harry the entire day, trying to see if Louis would do something. Instead, they both find themselves treated to a rooftop dinner by Eleanor and Louis who think that Zayn and Harry should spend some quality time with each other in the midst of the wedding frenzy. Harry scoffs when he downs the chardonnay, each and every move backfiring but the evening turns out pleasant, actually. With the wedding forgotten, Zayn and Harry get back to themselves. It’s not half bad. They’ve always been able to get along, no matter what. Zayn says something snarky yet witty and Harry chokes on his drink, they head back to their room and Zayn pretends to make up reviews for the most trivial things to make Harry laugh.

“Where did you steal that from?” Harry bites on his bottom lip to hold back a grin.

“If you think I stole a bag of Cheetos, don’t you think I deserve a raise?” Zayn retorts, leaning his back against the headboard and pulling on Harry’s hand so he sits down on the bed next to him.

“You earn more than me,” Harry rolls his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips while he brings two cans of Sprite.

Zayn looks at him, nose crinkling while he smiles, “How thoughtful, Haz.”

“I also have this,” Harry sticks his tongue out involuntarily, pushing his hand underneath the pillows and pulls out a rectangular box of chocolate.

“Cheetos, chocolate and sprite,” Zayn lets out a laugh, ripping the bag open and puts on an episode of Friends, “What did I do to deserve such a fancy dinner.”

Harry gets comfortable, fluffing the pillows behind his back and rests on them, a duvet pooling at his hips as he makes a face at the recollection, “’S tons better than the shit they served as food back there.”

The rooftop dinner arranged by Eleanor and Louis was a bust. Zayn knew it the moment Harry started eyeing the food suspiciously. Don’t get him wrong, Harry’s had tons of unusual food combinations—hell, that’s part of his job but something about a badly deconstructed version of ravioli served with anchovies and beetroot reduction made him share one look with Zayn before they dipped out of the place with their chardonnay.

He’s interrupted by his thoughts when Zayn brings a Cheeto to his mouth, “Here, try this. Radical, isn’t it?”

Harry takes a bite then gives Zayn a light shove, chuckling, “That’s the most horrible impression of me.”

“That’s dead accurate,” Zayn is laughing to himself quietly while the Friends episode on the TV plays out.

“So isn’t,” Harry teases, biting a piece of chocolate, “You just like to mock me and my job all the time. You don’t care about me.”

“That’s not true,” Zayn muses, “I need you.”

“You do?” Harry was just messing with him, unexpecting the prior reply.

“Yeah,” Zayn agrees, “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have a room to stay in.”

Harry looks unamused, letting out a while, “Zaaayn, be nice to me.”

“Alright, fine,” Zayn snickers, putting away the half-eaten bag of Cheetos and discarding the chocolate wrappers. He sits up, cross-legged and exhales to contort his face in a more serious expression. Harry’s clad in the softest beige sweater, his bright green eyes centred on the raven-haired lad. Zayn thinks it’s one of the best times he’s had in a long time and Harry, unable to keep a straight face, breaks into a faint smile, probably realizing the same thing.

“Harry,” Zayn begins with all his might to keep a serious tone, “When I look in your eyes and you’re looking back in mine, everything feels not quite normal. Because I feel stronger and weaker at the same time.” Harry is taken aback, a fonder look settling on his face as Zayn continues, “I feel excited and at the same time, terrified. I don’t know what I feel except I know what kind of man I want to be.”

“Zayn-“ Harry looks sentimental, a dimpling smile curling at his lips, “Wow, that- wow. It was beautiful.”

“I should hope so, that’s from the first Spiderman movie,” Zayn bursts out laughing at the change in expression on Harry’s face, who looks like he was played.

“You’re so fucking annoying, I’m going to kill you,” Harry surges forward, scoffing and pushing Zayn on the bed by his shoulders, laughing along with him. Zayn squirms when Harry playfully wrestles him down on the bed while both of them are in fits of laughter. 

_____

So, when finally, finally Harry has nothing to do or nowhere to rush the next afternoon, he takes his time to indulge in a nice lazy afternoon. Last time he checked, Zayn was snoring away at his side of the bed and Harry knows by experience how much of a useless pursuit it is to wake Zayn Malik up before noon when he’s not working.

He was at the banquet hall with the correctly ordered lilies, waiting to be unwrapped.

“Hi, stranger.”

When Harry turns around, he least expects to see him. But not in a bad way.

“Hi,” he nervously laughs under his breath when Louis joins him in stacking the flowers in vases filled with water. He sneaks a look at Louis whose brunette tinged hair stick out in the Chicago sun, cascading from the huge windows of the hotel.

“I’m sorry about the whole wedding stuff, I know it’s a lot to ask for you to do,” Louis looks sheepishly at him.

Harry shakes his head with a polite smile, “I got it, don’t worry.”

“Thanks, Haz,” Louis easily smiles, somehow the nickname seems foreign coming from him but Harry ignores it, busying himself with the flowers.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot these past couple of days. About us, I mean,” Louis declares like it’s a casual thing to say.

That has Harry’s attention.

“Well, there are a lot of memories to choose from, I guess,” Harry stops fiddling with the vases to lean on the railing, his eyes on Louis.

“It’s more than that. I mean, it’s kind of embarrassing to say it this way but we’ve always stuck together, y’know?”

He nods understandably.

“And now with the wedding, it’s-“

“Going to be different,” Harry finishes.

Louis repeats with a nostalgic smile at how quick Harry can read him, “Going to be different.”

Harry feels different but also the same. A lot has happened the past few years which changed them, he guesses. All the while, standing there with Louis brought back memories of how they’d have conversations at length but there’s also this feeling of awkwardness because he forgets how to be around Louis. It takes a while to get back to the same dynamics they shared which, perhaps, isn’t renewable anymore.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one losing my mind over this,” Harry confesses with a small smile.

Louis waves his hand in the air, shaking his head, “Yeah, I mean, you commit to this wedding and there’s a momentum and then you forget you chose it. And I’m scared, you know? It’s- it’s a serious thing.”

“I lost my mind and fell off the bed when you first told me,” Harry supplies with a chuckle.

“Explains the noise,” Louis grins.

“It was scary for me too,” he admits, looking outside the windows, “How quickly things changed.”

“Things changed the moment I started my job and you moved to New York,” Louis adds, turning to his right to face Harry.

“They did but it always felt like we could get past it,” Harry exhales a breath, gazing back at Louis, “Like, maybe we don’t see each other for five months but there’s a chance we could meet the next month but now with this wedding, it sort of felt like you were getting away from me.”

Harry catches himself being surprised at the admission. He supposes sometimes the most healing thing he could do is to remind himself over and over again that Louis feels this way too.

“I get that a lot,” Louis runs a hand through his hair, letting out a breathy laugh, “I think Eleanor made it easier to deal with these changes, you know? Like Zayn has for you. I mean, that’s one of the reasons why this wedding feels right, given the short notice.”

“Who would’ve thought you, of all people would find someone to marry?” Harry tries to lighten the mood.

Louis feigns offense, the fakest gasp of all time, “You’ve got some nerve, Styles.”

Harry’s face breaks out into a smile, feeling a lot better than he did before he even came here. Something about this conversation felt like it was needed. He looks at Louis as if to ask if they’re okay. Louis pushes him in a reply with a small smile. They’re okay.

“Makes you jealous, doesn’t it?” Eleanor murmurs with a knowing smile, standing behind Zayn who is sleep rumpled yet unable to look away from where Harry and Louis are throwing flowers at each other, “I’d be jealous if I weren’t marrying the guy.”

“Well, they have been friends for nine years,” Zayn rubs his eyes, stifling a yawn and sits down at the empty table in the hall to get some late lunch. Undoubtedly, Eleanor joins him without an invite.

“You’ve never gotten jealous?” she seems inquisitorial if anything.

“I don’t see why,” he shrugs, muttering a thank you to the waiter who brings him a peanut butter sandwich. He files away to thank Harry who had already briefed the staff about Zayn’s sleeping habits so, whenever the waiters find him waltzing into the banquet, looking like he has woken up after a decade, they bring him food unquestioningly, “I just know that how we are is probably way different than what he’s going to have with other people.”

Eleanor tilts her head to the side as if urging him to go on. Zayn would get annoyed that she’s making him explain things after he’s slept half the day away but he surprisingly isn’t.

“I know that no one is going to bring his ugly humidifier but me when he forgets it. Like, he’s still going to ask me to taste the food not because he trusts my judgment, mind you, but he doesn’t want to be the only one being eating or getting attention,” Eleanor smiles at him, listening intently.

“No one’s going to have what you have,” she summarizes with a look of pride, “That’s actually really good advice; thanks, Zayn.”

Zayn’s eyes widen at what he has done, he shakes his head with a mouthful of bread, “No, no, no. What I meant to say is, I get jealous all the time. It’s not a bad thing.”

“No, you’re right,” she shakes her head, smiling, “What Lou and I have is different than what he has with Harry.”

“No, no,” Zayn groans, “Go back to being jealous.”

Eleanor giggles, patting him on the back, “You’re a funny one, Zayn.”

_____

When Harry keys the card to his room, he hopes that he doesn’t find Zayn still up. The thing is, the whole day went by without him even seeing Zayn. After talking to Louis, they both decided to spend time and it’s not like Harry would say no, it had been so long since he hung out with his best friend. It was nice to be around him again, to feel carefree and not like they were suddenly being pushed into the more serious aspects of life.

He feels a tad apologetic when he finds the TV on and Zayn slumped against the pillows, the clock beside him sticking to 11:56 pm.

“You’re still up,” Harry tries to make conversation, picking up a few clothes on the carpeted floor.

Zayn shrugs in reply, “Ironman’s on.”

Harry would be lying if he said he didn’t feel bad. It’s not like he tried to ignore Zayn the whole day. He waddles to the bathroom to change into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie and Zayn has turned off the TV, rolled away with his back to Harry.

“Are you asleep?” Harry tries again after he’s nestled between the sheets.

“Yes.”

“You’re so not,” Harry scoffs at the lie, a faint frown tugging at his lips when he softly murmurs, “Please talk to me.”

Zayn doesn’t know why he’s worked up over this, it’s not like Harry had invited him here. Similarly, it’s not his job to stick to Zayn the whole time. He understands that. But he still feels like a moody little shit who got ignored all day. Despite his mood, he turns around to face Harry, unable to ignore how earnest he had sounded.

“Oh my god, you’re so close to my face,” Zayn lets out a chuckle.

Harry sticks his tongue out playfully, inching away to get some space between them, “I’m sorry about today. It’s just, I finally got to hang out with Louis properly. After years, you know?”

Zayn exhales a sigh, nudging Harry with a light kick to his feet, “S’alright, really. I understand.”

He is immediately met with a familiar dimpled smile, “Thank you. What’d you do all day? Did you eat?”

“Got some room service,” he shrugs, a smile of his own making its away on his face when he finds Harry fussing over his meals, “Hung out with Eleanor, actually.”

“You did? No way.”

Zayn purses his lips, shaking his head, “Unfortunately, since you left me all alone,” he teases, “I had no other choice. I also might’ve accidentally given her some advice on not to be jealous.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry bats a hand in the air which eventually rests on Zayn’s forearm, “And for the record, I missed you when you weren’t there.”

“Such a liar, babe,” Zayn muffles his laugh.

“I really did!” Harry puckers his lips into a pout, “Did you miss me?”

“Maybe I did,” he admits. They aren’t laughing anymore though, Harry’s touch on his arm moves in soothing circles. It’s weird. He realizes that there have been times when Harry was too busy to be with him but he doesn’t understand why today felt different. Maybe he was getting used to conversations ranging past midnight or having the strangest dinners while watching a random show, getting used to having Harry around with his comforting presence that made him feel at ease. Like he wasn’t just randomly here for a wedding for someone he barely knows. Perhaps, spontaneity and getting out of his comfort zone was easier when Harry was with him. He didn’t feel like a stranger, he felt like he belonged.

He doesn’t know what comes over him but he lets his gaze flicker down to Harry’s lips and the next thing he knows; he’s leaning in and pressing his lips against Harry’s.

It takes a moment for Harry to register what’s going on which makes Zayn pull away but then he’s fisting Zayn’s shirt, drawing him in for another kiss. It’s different. A new feeling—a better feeling even though it’s a mere brush of lips. Somehow, it feels right.

Of course, both of them have no restraint or control whatsoever which further deepens the kiss when Harry puts his hand on Zayn’s chest who grabs him closer by his wrist until they’re a tangled mess of limbs. He’s gliding his lips against Zayn’s who is tightening his arms around Harry’s waist, unable to hold back.

When they pull away, Harry’s hands are on Zayn’s cheeks. He clears his throat to dispel any tension between them, “I uh, I’m sorry- I just wanted to-“

“No, I wanted to,” Zayn tells him, no intention of letting him go.

“So, we both wanted to,” Harry confirms with a shy smile as he bites down on his bottom lip.

“Interesting,” Zayn nods slowly.

“We’re so bad at this,” Harry lets out a breathy chuckle which makes Zayn roll his eyes playfully with a grin.  
  


_4 days remaining._   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm slowly starting to write these chapters. Also, super thankful for anyone and everyone reading this. The movie in itself had the main character attempting to sabotage her best friend's wedding because she was in love with him. However, for the sake of this fic, I have tailored the story differently. Things might not seem the way they are, haha. that's the clarification I can give you. It might seem like there are conflicted emotions but they'll clear up soon as the story takes shape. Again, thank you so much for reading. Let me know how you like this one. (: Merry Christmas!


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